Finding Peace
by imnotacommittee
Summary: A.U. The von Trapps encounter someone unexpected when they hide in the Abbey
1. Notes and Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: _The Sound of Music_ belongs to 20th Century Fox. No infringement is intended

**Gratitude**: I thank Jelpy, who saw this rather raw and raised some valuable points, such as making me see that a certain character was half-edited out. I also thank Ilandra who really helped me mold the end of this so that the finale that I wanted all along was finally achieved.  I thank you both very, very much.

**A/N**: This concept was born in a conversation I had had with Ilandra.  I have never corresponded and bounced ideas off while actually writing, so that was a fun new method to try. I can't say what was discussed in that conversation without giving away the plot, so I'll just say that the idea was not solely mine, and Ilandra was kind enough to let me play.

**Summary**: An alternate universe take on the von Trapp escape from Salzburg.  They encounter someone unexpected when they hide in the Abbey

**Finding Peace**

            The night sky lit up in the distance as a summer thunderstorm loomed closer to Salzburg.  Warm, muggy humidity clung oppressively to the air, making even walking across the Abbey courtyard tiresome.  

Sister Berthe moved as quickly as she could as the shrill sound of the bell echoed through the corridors.  An unexpected crash of thunder caused her to jump.  It wasn't just the weather that had created such an uneasy atmosphere.  The Anchluss was no longer a threat; the Nazis had invaded Austria.  For many, including the nuns who lived in the relative safety of the convent, the news was the terrifying end of their sanctuary.

            The bell rang again.  Sister Berthe hurried to answer it.  A part of her was dreading the encounter of whoever was ringing it.  Just the thought of the Nazis in her homeland sent shivers down her spine.  She reached the entrance and stopped in shock for a moment.  A handsome man was standing there, surrounded by seven children.  The children, whose ages ranged from no more than six to older teens, all had terrified expressions and stood mutely around the man.

            "We seek sanctuary from the storm, Sister," the man said calmly, but not without a flash of urgency.  His eyes were intense and focused.  Sister Berthe studied him for a moment.  He had an air of confidence and of old school aristocracy, and yet she felt as if she had seen him before.  While he carried himself well, it was clear that he was in a state of agitation; he kept casting quick glances behind him, as if they were hiding from someone.  The nun glanced at the children again; all of them bore some resemblance to him. She hesitated; the events of the last few days made everyone wary of who could be trusted.

            He cleared his throat, and Sister Berthe looked up at him again.  His calm, determined eyes assured her that they meant no harm, and she was immediately ashamed for having thought so at all. She opened the gate and allowed them to pass through.

            "I will summon the Mother Abbess," she told them as she shut the gate behind them.

            "We don't mean to trouble you, Sister. We are en route to Switzerland.  The storm has proved too close for us to continue," the man said and gestured to the children, who seemed to be relaxing.

            "It's no trouble at all, I assure you," the nun replied and smiled.  "You shall stay the night, all of you."

            "No, really, please," the man said. "I wish to leave as soon as the storm passes."

            "Nonsense," Sister Berthe said and shook her head. "A good night rest will help when you leave in the morning."

            The man opened his mouth to reply, but seemed to have thought the better of it.  He looked at the oldest child, a girl of about sixteen or seventeen, who nodded in response.   

            "May I help you?" a voice came up from behind the group.  Sister Margaretta walked over to them and paused when she saw the children.  A flash of recognition came to her face.  She looked over to the man standing next to Sister Berthe.

            "These are the von Trapp children!" Margaretta exclaimed, walking over to the youngest and putting her hands on the girl's shoulders.

            The man nodded. "Yes, they're my children," he said and looked at them questioningly for a moment.  He looked past them as other occupants of the Abbey started to join the small group.  An odd expression came upon his face, as if he were searching for someone.

            Turning his attention back to Sister Berthe, he offered a small smile. "I thank you for your generosity," he started and extended his hand. "I'm Captain Georg von Trapp.  I wouldn't have dreamed of disturbing you if it wasn't for the storm or for the fact that earlier this summer, you had sent one of your postulants to be my children's governess."

            Sister Berthe nodded and gave a look to Sister Margaretta.

            Noticing this, the Captain inhaled.  "We will leave after the storm has passed," he repeated.

            "No, you will stay the night," Sister Margaretta said. "We insist.  We shall prepare some rooms for you all.  It seems we might be in for a stormy night, so it's better you stay with us anyway."

            The Captain glanced at his children, who also seemed to be searching the crowd.  He gave a grateful nod to the two nuns and walked over to the little ones.  Scooping the smallest into his arms, he closed his eyes.

            "Father?" a slightly older girl with long dark hair asked as she stepped closer to him. "What is going on? Why are we here at the Abbey?"

            He opened his eyes and offered a tight smile to her. "I'll tell you later, Brigitta," he said and looked at the rest of his children.  "I'll tell all of you soon.  Let's just get settled here."

            "Why can't we go back home?" the little one in his arms asked.

            He hugged her closer to him.  "I promise I'll tell you all soon."

            The child wrapped her arms around him and looked over his shoulder. "Is she here, Father?" she asked.

            He shook his head. "We're not here to see her, Gretl," he told her as the other children crowded around him.  "We're here because it's safe for now.  We can rest here and then leave in the morning."

            "But I want to see her!" the other little girl said, here voice trembling. "She didn't even say good-bye."

            The oldest girl squatted next to her sister and hugged her. "We can't worry about that now, Marta," she soothed. "We have to leave Austria."

            "She has to come with us," Gretl said, tears forming in her eyes.  The Captain hugged her closer and looked at Sister Margaretta.   The woman smiled kindly and walked over to him.

            "Why don't you come with me and get some food?" she suggested.  "You all look exhausted."

            The Captain nodded and cocked his head for them to follow her.  As she led them through the courtyard, she tried not to listen to the whispers of the older children.

            "No, she's in seclusion," a girl hissed.

            "That was weeks ago," a boy's voice replied.  "She can't be secluded all this time.  It would be too quiet, especially for her."

            Sister Margaretta smiled to herself at the candid observation, and she could have sworn she could hear a low, masculine laugh.  Clearly, the family knew their former governess very well.

            "Well, we're not here to see her anyway," the same girl's voice, laced with anger, said. "She left, and now we are too."

            They arrived in a small dining room.  Sister Margaretta turned and looked at the group. "I'll see if I can get some soup for you," she said.

            The Captain walked over to her, the little girl still in his arms. "I thank you all for your kindness," he said.

            "It is the least we can do," she said and patted his shoulder before departing to notify the Reverend Mother of their unexpected guests.

***

            Captain von Trapp looked at his children.  "I'm sorry for the detour," he said. 

            Lighting flashed outside, highlighting seven concerned faces.  The children stared back at him; the older ones looking like they expected an explanation.  Sighing, he set Gretl down.

            "Father," Brigitta said, feeling brave. "What is happening?  Why are we here?"

            He gazed down at her, smiling at her blunt approach. "We can't stay in Austria anymore," he answered. "We have to leave."

            Brigitta looked up at Friedrich, who was staring at his father. "Forever?" he asked.

            Georg closed his eyes, struggling to maintain his inner control over the fact that they were brought to this point, running from their home like fugitives. Thunder rumbled lowly in the distance. "We can't stay in this country while the Nazis take it over."

            He heard someone clearing her throat and saw Liesl staring intensely at him. She nodded in encouragement for him to continue.  

"And I cannot join them," he said and looked at the other children.  "They 'requested' that I join their navy, and that is something I simply cannot do."

            He sighed as he watched the shock register on their faces.  Friedrich put his hands on Marta's shoulders, and Louisa pulled her lips into a tight line.   He returned his gaze to Brigitta, who tried to smile.

            "Where are we going, Father?"

            "Switzerland," he answered. "As long as we're together, then I believe everything will be alright."

            Sister Margaretta returned, followed by an elderly woman whom Georg assumed was the Mother Abbess.  He walked over to her, extending his hand.

            "Reverend Mother," he said, "I can't tell you how grateful I—"

            The woman raised her hand and waved off his speech. "I thank you for coming to us, Captain," she said. "Please understand me when we will not ask any questions, and you have our complete confidence. We shall help you in any way we can."

            Their eyes met in a shrewd understanding, and the Captain nodded.  Then the Reverend Mother cocked her head towards the door on the far end of the room, and Sister Margaretta walked over to it, revealing several postulants carrying trays.  Mother Abbess smiled.

            "It's not as grand as the meals you're used to," she said.

            "Thank you," the Captain said and gestured to his children to sit at the table in the center of the room. He looked at her. "Will you join us?"

            She shook her head. "I will see that we have some rooms for you to use," she declined and smiled at the children before she and the others departed.

            "I thought one of them was her, but it wasn't," Brigitta said after a moment, looking down at her soup.

            "She isn't coming," Louisa said hotly. "I bet she knows we're here and is hiding from us."

            "Louisa," the Captain said firmly. He looked up and found an equally stern pair of eyes meeting his gaze in a stubborn challenge. "Do not speak badly of a woman who has been so kind to you."

            She opened her mouth but looked over at her siblings. Seeing no support, she set her chin and glared into her bowl.

            "Do you think she knows we're here?" Marta asked.

            "I have no idea," the Captain replied, unsure if he should be annoyed or relieved with his children's preoccupation with their former governess.  

            The family resumed their meal in a tense silence.  Georg felt a knot form in his stomach and he soon lost his appetite completely.  It seemed as if his world had unraveled before his eyes in just a few short weeks.   He had known the Anchluss was coming, and had received the actual event with a removed numbness.  All throughout the summer, he had been planning a gradual move from the country; he didn't want to draw any unwanted attention to himself and had prepared his affairs quietly.  The telegram he had received earlier that day had expedited his plans to leave the country, but at least he could relax knowing that they had somewhere to go and funds for their journey.

            The Nazis had arrived in Salzburg a few days previously, and he had wanted to leave before they came to his home, taking him away from his family.  He had only trusted Max with the details of their departure; he didn't want to involve anyone unnecessarily with his plans.  He knew he could depend on Max; of others, even his servants, he had to be wary.

He had taken the children into town via the bus that afternoon, under the pretense of attending the Salzburg Music Festival. From there, he had planned to covertly meet with Max on the outskirts of town, take a car which had been purchased specifically for their escape, and drive to Switzerland, hopefully unnoticed.  Everything had been going to plan; they had been successful in avoiding any pursuers, and were making good time to their rendezvous with Max.

            He had not anticipated a thunderstorm.

            Pushing his bowl in front of him, he closed his eyes and exhaled loudly, allowing himself a moment of rest.  As much as he had prepared, there always seemed to be one thing he had not anticipated.  

His plan was, at the most generous, a brave thing to do. It was risky with seven children.  The older ones would be alright, but he was concerned for Brigitta, Marta, and Gretl; they simply were too young to be traveling under such dire circumstances.  

The Captain would be alone with his children as they escaped. He knew they trusted him, but he felt desperate for someone to accompany him; someone who could ease his burden and help with the children.  He felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards as a face flashed into his mind's eye.

            His smile quickly reversed.  That wasn't possible.  Despite the fact that he was closer to her now than he had been in weeks, it wasn't meant to be.  He shook the idea out of his head.

            He looked around at his family and saw that they all had either finished their meal or, like him, couldn't eat any more.  He slowly rose and turned to the entrance way.

            "I'll see to our rooms," he suggested and started to leave.

            He didn't get very far when Sisters Margaretta and Berthe came to meet him.  The taller of the two, Sister Berthe, smiled and gestured for the family to follow them.

            "If you're ready, we'll show you to your rooms," she said.

            The group silently followed the two nuns to the courtyard.  The Captain glanced around his surroundings, noting how simply grand the open room was.  It had an air of honesty to it, like anyone could be themselves as they strolled through, surrounded by virtue and uncomplicated piety.  He could see the draw someone could have to live such a simple life.  He thought about how it was home to so many people; how it was _her home._

            Surprised at how much he was thinking about her, he shook his head and glanced back at his children.  They all bore similar expressions of fatigue and wariness.  He walked over to Marta, about to stoop over to pick her up.  A flash of lighting lit the courtyard for a moment.

            Suddenly, Marta froze and stared at the far end of the courtyard.  Her eyes widened in shock and then a huge smile spread across her face.

            Before the Captain could see what had made his daughter so happy, the girl had run off, dashing frantically across the courtyard.  He turned and saw Gretl following her, and then Brigitta.  He followed his youngest children with his eyes, and saw what they were running towards.

            No, not what. Who.

            "Fräulein Maria!" he heard Gretl's echoed shout as the two little girls flung themselves at the woman, who was completely surprised at the sight of them.  She barely had time to register what was happening when she was knocked down by the girls' enthusiasm and the trio fell to the floor.

            The Captain's stomach seemed to tighten at the sight of his daughters in her arms, their naked adoration for her plain on their faces.  He saw, too, the warmth spread over her face as she got over her shock and hugged the girls to her with genuine love.  Kurt, Friedrich and Liesl started to walk over to the small group, and the Captain noted how Louisa walked more slowly, staying with him. Her face bore a look of unbelieving hope.  He paused and turned to Sisters Margaretta and Berthe, who both smiled at him.

            "I see your children have found their governess at last," Margaretta said.  "We'll give you all a moment to reunite."

            Before the Captain could reply, the two stepped to far end of the courtyard, giving the family some privacy.  He resumed walking over to the group piled on the floor.         

"We missed you!" Marta exclaimed and hugged her governess closer.

            "Why did you leave us?" Brigitta asked.

            Georg noted that Maria looked truly dumbfounded at the situation.  It seemed Louisa had been wrong in her assumption; Maria had no idea the family was there.  _Nuns, it seems, do not gossip, the Captain thought wryly._

            "What are you doing here?" Maria finally asked, looked at each child in turn.

            "We're escaping from Austria," Gretl answered and Friedrich quickly hushed her.

            "We're seeking shelter from the storm," Friedrich explained.

            "You're all…" Maria trailed as she finally looked up from the children, immediately falling silent.

            The tightness in the Captain's stomach seemed to overcome him as she finally met his gaze.  Everything seemed to fade away as the pair stared at each other, and the Captain felt as if suddenly, without reason or explanation, that everything was starting to come together.

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

            Maria's shock soon dissolved into hesitation as she stared at the Captain.  It had been weeks since she had seen the family she had grown to love.  She had thought that time would numb whatever emotions she had felt when she was with them, but she was wrong.  Her love for the children overcame her, and she clutched little Marta and Gretl tighter to her to hide her sudden tears.  Unable to meet the deep stare of their father any longer as he stood near them, she closed her eyes against Gretl's head, trying to calm her breathing.

            "Why did you leave us?" she heard Brigitta ask again.

            Maria looked up at her and met the same intense stare of the Captain reflected on the girl's face.  She opened her mouth to try to answer, but found herself completely powerless to do so.  How could she explain herself right then? How could she tell them that the reason she left them all so quickly was standing before them, watching her intently?  She felt her breath catch in her throat.

            "I'm sorry, children," she managed at last. "I just couldn't stay."

            "But why?" Brigitta persisted, but Liesl walked up behind her and touched her sister's shoulder.

            "Not now, Brigitta," she said, looking at Maria curiously.

            Maria looked up at the Captain again.  She felt her insides melt as their eyes met.  He offered a small, half-smile, but all she could do in return was stare back at him with a look of uncertainty.  Just as the love she felt for the children returned stronger than before at the sight of them, the emotions she felt for him surged through her. Her throat tightened, and a strong rush of heat seemed to overcome her.  She inhaled sharply, trying to cool herself.

            "We're seeking shelter from the thunderstorm," he stated simply.  "We didn't mean to startle you."

            She shook her head. "Not at all," she said, smiling at last.  Peeling the little ones off of her, she rose slowly, noting how both Marta and Gretl attached themselves to her waist once she was standing.  She wrapped her arms around them.  "I wish I had known that you were here. I would have come down sooner."

            "I thought you were in seclusion," Louisa finally spoke up, a mixture of resentment and expectation in her tone. "They said you didn't want to see anyone."

            Maria felt her mouth drop open. "How did you know I was…" she trailed as she saw Friedrich and Liesl turn to glower at Louisa.

            The blonde wasn't affected by the glare of her siblings. "We went to see you," she said. "You wouldn't come."

            Maria sighed. "I didn't know you were here."

            "Didn't they tell you?"

            "Louisa," the Captain said and she glared at him.  They stared at each other for a moment before Louisa scowled and fell silent, choosing to look around the courtyard.  

            Maria watched the enigmatic girl retreat inwardly and sighed in sadness.  She had never been able to truly reach Louisa; she had regretted that, among other things, when she had left so suddenly those few long weeks before. 

She returned her attention to the rest of the children surrounding her.  They all mirrored their sister's look of expectancy; they wanted a reason for her leaving them with nothing more than a letter. She looked up at the Captain.  He, too, was watching her, but his expression didn't seem to want to hear an explanation; he seemed to want to give one.

            A movement behind him caught her eye, and she looked past him.  He turned and saw Sisters Margaretta and Berthe walking towards them.

            "I see our guests have found you, Maria," Sister Margaretta said and gestured to the children surrounding the postulant.

            Maria nodded and smiled at Marta and Gretl. "Yes," she said squeezing them closer to her.

            "I hope the reunion is a happy one," Margaretta said and glanced between Maria and the Captain.

            Maria felt her cheeks redden as the Captain turned to look at her again.

            "We were escorting the family to their rooms," Margaretta explained, "but I don't believe they're tired anymore."

            The little ones hugged Maria tighter. Sister Berthe watched the scene before them and smiled.  The look on Maria's face as she glanced at the children struck the nun, and she turned to her companion.  

            "Perhaps we could come back in a few more minutes?"

            Maria's mouth dropped open in protest, but no words came out.  She watched as Sisters Margaretta and Berthe left her alone with the family.  A wave of nervousness came over her, and she felt the urge to run after the nuns.  She even started to take a step to follow them, but Marta's embrace around her waist tightened, and she looked down to see the little girl staring up at her with a strong, almost pleading, look in her eyes.

            "You won't leave us again, will you?" Marta whispered.

            The Captain chose that moment to walk even closer to them.  Maria wasn't sure if it was his footsteps or the actual storm that was causing the thundering in her ears as she forced herself to look at him.  He stared at her with unblinking eyes and his lips curving slightly.

            "Marta," he said lowly, his eyes not leaving Maria's as he spoke, "you know that _this_ is Fräulein Maria's home."

            Maria looked down, somehow embarrassed to have the family see her there, dressed in a postulant's attire, in a place that she had called home for so long.  She never thought that her two lives would ever collide.  

Suddenly, the stone floor and tall spires of the Abbey felt less like home than her uncle's farm, and she deeply wanted to be back at the villa with the family, laughing and enjoying the warmth that only they had been able to bring her. Surprised by the unpleasant wave of homesickness, she absently rubbed her hands against her black dress.

            "We're only staying for the night," the Captain explained.  She whipped her head and anxiety filled her.

            "Just the night?" she finally found her voice again as she stared at him.

            "We weren't even meant to come here," Liesl spoke up, mystified by the non-verbal exchange between her father and Fräulein Maria. 

            "We only came because it's raining," Kurt said, looking over at Louisa, who had remained rooted to her spot, staring at their governess.

            Maria shook her head. "But why were you even near the Abbey at this hour?"

            The Captain stared at her. "We're leaving," he said. 

            Maria knitted her eyebrows in confusion. "Leaving?"

            The Captain reached down and pulled Gretl into his arms.  Absently rubbing her braided hair, he sighed. "The Anschluss. We can't stay here with the Nazis in Austria."

            Maria nodded, their eyes locked with each others.  Her breath caught at the anger she saw in his face, and she desperately wanted to reach out and offer some sort of comfort to him.

            "They want me to join their Navy," he continued.

            "No!" Maria exclaimed, raw energy jolting through her. "You can't!"

            He hugged Gretl closer to him. "That's why we're leaving like this: in secret," he said. "To join them is unthinkable, but to refuse them would be…"

            The unfinished thought hung in the air, and everyone stood in a sober silence.

            Before she could stop herself, Maria asked, "What about the Baroness?"

            The Captain snapped out of his thoughts and stared at her. "Why would you.." he barely whispered, but Friedrich, not hearing his father, spoke up.

            "She left," he announced.

            Maria looked at the boy, surprised. "Left?"  She did not dare look at the Captain.

            Brigitta nodded. "Yes," she said. "She left a few days after the ball."

            "But I thought…" Maria started and glanced around the group.  When her eyes landed on the Captain again, she stopped and they gazed at each other, each searching the other for an answer. 

            "Why would you think the Baroness would be here?" the Captain finished his question.

            Maria shook her head, completely confused. "Weren't you going to…"

            "She doesn't hate the Nazis like Father does," a voice answered.  The group looked over to see Louisa standing a littler closer than she had been before, her face starting to soften as she watched Maria.  "And she missed the city."

            Maria looked down, anxiety washing over her again.  More confused than ever, she was unable to look at him.  She knew that her feelings were now plain to everyone.  Totally mortified, she kept her gaze firmly planted on the ground.  A loud crash of thunder caused all of them to jump.  Marta hugged Maria tighter, and she heard Gretl yelp in fright.

            "Shhh, it's alright, Gretl," Maria heard the Captain say lowly to his child, and her heart swelled with an intense feeling at the sound of his soothing voice.  She hugged Marta closer.

            Footsteps approaching spared her from any further explanation, and she looked up to see Sisters Margaretta and Berthe return.

            The Captain, peeling his face from studying Maria, walked over to meet them.  "I think the children should go to bed," he said to Sister Margaretta.

            The woman nodded and glanced over at Maria.  She immediately saw the other's agitated demeanor and resisted the urge to walk over and comfort her.  She noted how the children reacted to their governess and vice versa; they seemed to be drawing strength from each other.

            "This way," Margaretta said and led them across the courtyard.

            Maria followed, careful to stay behind the group and out of the Captain's line of vision.  She gazed down at her hands, and saw that they were shaking.  She tried to calm her breathing, but she knew it was too late.

            He knew.

            He knew why she had left, and he knew why she couldn't look at him now.  She truly felt pathetic, falling in love with a man she could never have, who could never return her feelings.  Bitterness swept through her.  She knew that she wasn't meant to be a permanent part of this family, and she had left the villa to obey that realization. But she couldn't shake the strong pull she felt to them.  As she walked behind them, she realized that she felt more at home and at peace right then than she had since her return to the Abbey.

            The wave of homesickness came upon her again, disturbing her.  She wasn't supposed to feel homesick at home.  She was supposed to feel comforted and happy.  But she didn't.  There was only an emptiness that left her feeling completely confused.

            Tears welled in her eyes, and she didn't even bother to wipe them away.  Why had they come to the Abbey?  Why did she have to go through such a test?  She looked heavenward, desperate for both an escape from her emotions and the need to stay close to them, to him.

            "Do you need this?" a voice asked beside her.  Startled, she looked over to see Louisa handing her a cloth.

            No, it wasn't just a cloth; it was a kerchief.  Made from a set of drapes.

            Maria choked back a sudden sob and tried to smile at the girl.

            "We missed you," Louisa said simply as Maria took the kerchief to wipe her eyes.

            The pair fell further behind the rest of the group, and Louisa stared at Maria. 

            "I missed you, too," Maria replied.  "If I had known you had come to visit me, I would have seen you."

            The girl looked assured. "I believe you would have."

            The two walked side by side, and Maria felt some of her burden lesson as she noted the trust return to Louisa's eyes.  Silently, they followed the group to their designated sleeping quarters.

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

            The first storm had passed over Salzburg an hour before, and the air left behind was sticky and damp.  A heavy mist muddled the far light of the lampposts, and in the distance, a second storm could be heard rumbling its way towards the city.

            The Captain sighed as he climbed the stairs absently.  He, the two Sisters, and Maria had helped the children settle into their beds. Liesl had wanted to remain up, but he had insisted that his eldest get some rest; they were in for a hectic day tomorrow.

            As he climbed, he realized that he didn't know where he was going; all he knew was that sleep was the last thing he felt like doing.  He ascended the seeming countless stairs and felt the stress of the past few hours weigh him down.

            The constant bombardment of emotions he had gone through in the last twenty-four hours should have drained him. He should have collapsed onto his bed and fallen asleep before he realized where he was.  But it was just the opposite; he felt energized, alive.  His hands twitched with nervous, barely contained electricity.

            The most puzzling part of his mental state was that the Anschluss had not entered his mind at all.  The moment he had seen Maria again, all other thoughts had vanished from his head.

            Georg paused and frowned.  The image of her sitting with his children warmed his heart more than he thought possible.  He hadn't realized how vital she had become to their lives until he watched the amazingly subtle way his children's fears vanished as they huddled closer to her.  Even Louisa's inherent anger seemed to melt away in Maria's presence.

            How was it that one person, _one person, could have such an effect on eight people?_

            The frown deepened.  _Eight _people?  Sighing again, he realized that he had to be honest with himself.  He had felt his own mood lighten the moment he had seen her, just as his children's had.  Maria held a powerful grasp on his family; everything seemed clearer when she was with them.

            Her question about Elsa had disturbed him.  He himself hadn't thought of Elsa since her departure a few days after the ball when they had decided that they didn't have a future together.  He had been so consumed with helping his children cope with Maria's departure that all thoughts of the plans he had made with Elsa had vanished from his head.  It had shocked him when Maria mentioned her; Elsa had apparently been on Maria's mind for some reason.

            He resumed his climbing, trying to clear his thoughts. However, the only thing his forced concentration resulted in was the memory of that wonderfully peaceful interlude from the time of his return from Vienna to the night of the ball. 

            Reaching the top of the stairs, he paused as he surveyed the scene before him.  He had come to the graveyard of the convent.  Countless tombs loomed in front of him in the hazy, dim light.  His gaze stopped suddenly when he realized that he was not alone.

            Across the courtyard, her silhouette unmistakable even from this distance as she stood under an arcade, was Maria.  He studied her, finding himself entranced by the way the dull light framed her figure and her posture as she stood, leaning against the wall.  The unusual pose struck him as serene and graceful.

            An urge to go to her swelled from deep within him, and he slowly walked towards her.  He wanted to know the real reason she had escaped to the Abbey, and why she had mentioned Elsa an hour ago.  The unsettling sensation of losing something, a missed opportunity, came to him, and he checked himself from practically running over to her.  He realized that he would not have this chance again; he was leaving the next morning and would leave her there, alone forever.

            Sensing a presence behind her, Maria whirled around and he heard her breath catch when she saw that it was he coming towards her.

            "Forgive me, Fräulein," he said, feeling nervous. "I didn't mean to startle you."

            She looked at him blankly, as if she didn't trust herself to speak.

            "I see this spot as been taken," he said and reluctantly backed away.  Above all, he didn't want her to be uncomfortable around him. "I shall find another place to think."

            "I was just watching the sky," she said at last, her voice an invitation.  "Storms have always fascinated me."

            He smiled and walked over to stand next to her.  "You should have seen the storms at sea then," he said.  She shifted to face him.  "I've never seen such power of nature."

"It sounds exciting," she said, and he was surprised at his reaction to the small smile of her face.  He felt as if he had been holding his breath and was finally able to release it.

            He nodded.  "Exciting and humbling," he told her.

            "Humbling?"

            He looked out the window. "There were many times when we were at the complete mercy of the sea," he explained. "You come to truly respect the power of God when you're completely defenseless."

            "No atheists in a hurricane, I guess," she said, and the two laughed.     Their eyes met, and she turned serious.

            "I hope these storms tonight don't put you too much out of your way," she said.

            He shook his head. "I think they might have been a blessing in disguise," he said with an honesty that surprised him.  Her cheeks reddened, and she looked down. Georg quickly turned to look out to the skies again.  They stood in an awkward silence for a moment.

            "I must confess," she started, her voice hesitant. "That I was surprised to see you here in the abbey."

            "It was a detour," he said, studying the calm of the city.  Salzburg looked, from this distance, as if everything was perfectly normal, and nothing horrible was engulfing it, possibly forever.  "If the storms hadn't come, we would be out of the city by now."

            She nodded mutely. "Well, I'm glad I got a real chance to say good-bye, then."

            He smiled. "It was good for the children to see you again," he said. "Their nerves are considerably calmer now."

            "They are such wonderful children," she said, turning to face him.  

            He shook his head. "Once again, you managed to do what I could not," he confided, turning to look out into the sky.

            "Sir?"

            He gave her a side-long glance. "You calmed the children in such a dire situation, and you didn't even try," he told her.

            Lightning flashed in the distance, and the glow lit her blushing face.  She smiled and followed his lead to look out into the sky.  They stood quietly for a few moments, lost in their own thoughts.

            He heard her sigh.  "I can't believe it's happened," she whispered.

            "The Anchluss?" he asked, again turning to face her.

            She nodded, moving to meet his gaze.  "It doesn't seem real," she said.

            A dark look came over his face.  "It's all too real, Maria," he said lowly, feeling the weight of the telegram in his coat pocket. "They're here."

            She shivered, despite the humidity in the air. "What happens now?"

            He sighed. "I don't know," he confessed. "Austria is now a under the control of the Germans.  Everything will be turned over to them.  The Austria we know is gone."

            "I don't blame you for leaving," she said and sighed, looking past him at the graves. "You mustn't join them."

            Georg's jaw set in angry determination. "I would rather die," he said.

            She snapped her head to look at him again. "Then who would take care of the children?" she whispered.

            A bitter laugh came from his throat. "Now you know the real reason I'm taking seven children on such a journey."

            "They're strong, determined children," she told him.  "They'll be fine."

            He nodded and their eyes met in shared parental pride. Georg stared at her, studying the soft lines of her jaw and the sprinkle of freckles adorning her nose and cheeks.  The lightning illuminated her face again; the dull purple light catching the bright blue of her eyes.  The wind picked up and shifted the few wisps of her hair that had escaped the confines of her wimple, and he found himself resisting the urge to brush the lose strands from her face.

            A loud rumble of thunder caught them both by surprise, breaking the unexpected spell.  Maria gasped and took a step back, leaning against the wall.  The Captain cleared his throat and looked out at the city.

            "This one seems to be worse than the previous one," he commented, his casual tone sounding forced, even to him.

            "Uh, yes," Maria stammered. "I hope the children will be alright."

            He gave her another side-long glance. "They're strong, determined children," he said and she returned his wry smile.

            "They'll be fine?" she finished for him and they laughed.

            She turned serious. "I pray that you make it to safety," she said.

            He nodded.

            "I am glad that I got a chance to say good-bye properly," she said again, returning her attention to the approaching storm.  He saw the fear on her face.

Studying her profile, he noticed how her cheeks seemed to redden even more under his scrutiny. "You could have done that on your own terms, Maria," he said.

            She turned away from him, and her hand went up to her mouth.  He regretted making her uncomfortable, and he fought the urge to reach out and take her hand.

            "I'll never forgive myself for leaving you all like that," he heard her mutter. "But I had no choice."

            This surprised him. "Why do you say that, Maria?"

            She kept her face hidden, and he heard her intake her breath sharply.  "I pray you forgive me for leaving," she said, unable to answer his question.

            He shook his head. "I wish I knew what had caused you to run away," he said.

            She looked up at him, and he was surprised to see confusion on her face. "I had to," she whispered.

            "Why?" he asked, moving closer to her.  He could tell that she didn't like being trapped, but he was overcome with the need to hear her explanation.

            "I, uh," she hesitated, her breath catching. "I was only there for one reason.  Anything more than that would have been wrong."

            Georg felt his stomach drop.  "What do you mean by 'anything more'?"

            Maria swallowed, struggling to find the words without sounding accusatory. "I didn't know what it was, not until she—"

            "Who?" he asked, his eyebrows dropping.

            She shook her head. "She said that you… and that I…" she trailed.

Narrowing his eyes, Georg searched her face.  An old sensation filled his chest; something that he hadn't felt in years.  The feeling started to consume him, and he didn't try to resist it.  As he stared at her, hearing what she couldn't say aloud, he felt an odd sense of peace come over him.  Without warning, things became clear.

            What she felt for him became suddenly apparent, and as he registered it, as he reflected on it, he knew that he felt the same way.  She was in love with him, and as he stared into her eyes, he knew he loved her too.  Unexpectedly feeling more alert than ever, he noted how he could feel his own heart beating. 

But did she _want_ to feel that way?  Was that why she had left?  She thought it was wrong, and she fled, without even considering the possibility of pursuing her feelings. Did she still wish to deny her emotions?  He wished he could bring himself to ask her that, to ask himself that.

            He set his hands on the railing of the wall, keeping his eyes locked with hers. "When did you talk to the Baroness?" he asked.

            Maria shook her head. "It's not important." 

            "Yes it is."

            "No," she insisted. "What's done is done."

            "Was it the night of the ball? The night you left?" he persisted.

            She nodded mutely and Georg felt his jaw tighten.  They stood in a tense silence for a long moment, and Georg noted how uneven her breathing had become.  Part of him wanted to take her hand and tell her that he felt the same way; another part wondered if it was too late.

            Instead, he studied Maria's agitated face. "What would have been wrong with 'anything more'?" he asked.

            Her mouth dropped, surprised. "I was there on God's errand," she said. "I was there to help prepare the children for a new mother—"

            She stopped, and he raised his eyebrows for her to continue. She stared at him. "Why _isn't_ the Baroness here?"

            He cocked his head. "It's as Louisa said," he said, unable to remove the darkness from his voice. "She missed the city too much."

            She looked doubtful.  Knowing that he owed her honesty, just as she had been truthful with him, his smile was more sincere this time. "We decided it wasn't going to work," he told her.

            Maria's eyes widened. "But I thought that you were going to…" she trailed again.

            He shook his head. "It never would have worked," he repeated, sighing. "We came to value different things.  _I_ came to value different things."

            She looked confused. "Then why did you consider it at first?"

            He laughed softly. "In the beginning, we were very compatible," he started. "We liked the same things, were of the same social standing, enjoyed each other's company.  She was a nice escape when life at home became too unbearable.

            "I had planned on marrying her, but things changed when I took her back to Salzburg with me at the beginning of the summer.  I distinctly remember everything changing the moment my children fell into the lake with their governess."

            Their eyes met, and he smiled at the sweet glow to Maria's cheeks. 

            He continued. "When you opened my eyes to how I was missing my children and the truly important things in life, I began to see things differently.  Instead of looking at the world as a cynic, I saw it through the eyes of a parent again.  

"That was something Elsa couldn't relate to.  Oh, she tried, bless her; she tried.  But you can't force yourself to be something you're not.  And I didn't want her to.  We decided that it was best that we went our separate ways."

            Maria nodded, and Georg watched her reaction.  He silently added that _Elsa had looked different to him after Maria had entered his life. Elsa's charms, worldliness, and sophistication seemed dull and tired next to the bright, pure energy that had filled the house upon his return from Vienna._

Georg had felt himself drawn to that energy, as if he needed it to survive.  At first, he thought it was simply the children's liveliness that had captivated him.  As he reflected, he concluded that it was more than that.  With Maria, he had felt alive, electric.  She was like a breath of fresh air, a force of life that he found himself unable to be without.

            He wondered if he had the right to tell her that.

            "So, it had nothing to do with politics?" Maria's voice pulled him back to reality.          He shook his head. "No," he said. "It wouldn't have been fair to either of us.  But, as I think about it, I can't imagine her coming with us.  Elsa is a good woman, but I can't see her willingly give up everything for a cause she didn't completely believe in."

            Maria nodded, and the Captain studied her as she reflected on his explanation.  While she looked more at ease than before, he noted how the soft lines of her mouth were drawn slightly down as the fear remained in her eyes.  He desperately wanted to tell her that she had nothing to fear from him or the emotions she felt, and he couldn't shake the feeling that time was running out.

            Thunder crashed in the sky again, and they both jumped.  Without warning, a wave of anxiety swept through Georg, and he felt as if he was about to lose the one opportunity to ask her what had been plaguing him since the moment she had reappeared into their lives.  He couldn't let her slip away from him again, now that he had just realized what it was between them.

He snapped his head over to stare at her, his eyes boring into hers as he grabbed her hands.  

            "Come with us," his voice was rough, almost desperate.

            Her mouth dropped again. "Captain, I—"

            "Maria," he interrupted with an intense urgency. "Listen to me. They won't care.  They won't care if you're a nun."

            "Captain!"

            "These walls won't protect you," he said, squeezing her hands tighter. "They'll come and do what they please.  You won't be safe."

            "Please," she said, fear invading her eyes.

            "I couldn't live with myself if I left you here," he said, and he watched the fear turn to sorrow.  She stepped back, but did not try to release herself from his grasp.

            "It's too late, Captain," she whispered.

            He pulled her back to him, ignoring the shock on her face.  He felt her body against his, and he was overcome with a passion he hadn't felt in years.  His face came very close to hers, and he felt her trembling beneath his grasp.  Her warm breath hit his face, and he felt his cheeks tingle with the contact.

            "It can't be too late," he interrupted.  "Not when we're both here, together."

            "Captain," she said.  "Please. I—"

            Unable to maintain his composure any longer, Georg pulled her to him and silenced her protests by grabbing her face with his hands and covering her mouth with his.  Absently noting her weak struggle at first, he deepened the kiss, moving his hands to stroke her neck. He was overcome with the need to deny the bitter realization that what never had been was turning rapidly into what never would be.  She must have felt it too, because she ceased her feeble resistance and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.  Her hands moved up to run through his hair, pulling him closer to her, and he became dizzy with a hungry desire. 

            It was as if they had reached the final step.  Maria had brought him back to his children.  She had made him a father again.  Now, she was bringing the last piece to him. She made him realize what he was missing as a man:  that wonderful feeling of completion that only the woman he loved and who loved him could bring to him.  

The thunder crashed around them, and he felt the blood rushing to his head.  Lightning flashed, and he shut his eyes tighter against the light, against reality. The only thing he was aware of was the taste of her lips beneath his, the subtle movements of her mouth, and the soft moans coming from her throat.  He pressed his hips closer to her and was keenly aware of his reaction to her soft her body against his.  Her trembling transformed to assertiveness as her hands traveled down his back, sending sparks of heat through his body.  

He didn't care about the Nazis at that moment.  His family's perilous journey seemed a dim vision that would arrive when he woke, something he was unwilling to do.  The only thing that mattered to him was that she was in his arms, and he was unable to let her go. He hadn't known until that moment that she was the one person who could complete him, and that he needed her in his life more than anything.  His hands moved up caress her hair.

            And his fingers collided against the material of her postulant's wimple.

            Georg snapped back as if stung.  He pushed Maria harshly away from him, horror flooding his face as he gasped for air.  Scanning her up and down, he saw what she was wearing for the first time that evening.  He hadn't truly realized, until that moment, that she was a postulant; she was going to be a nun.  

            She stared back at him, her lips pink and moist as she struggled to recompose herself.  But it was the look in her eyes that nearly broke him; they were filled with passion, hurt, and confusion. She blinked several times, unsure what she had done wrong.

            "Forgive me," he whispered.

            She looked frantically around the courtyard, trying to catch her breath.  His stomach tightened as he saw the shame flood her face.

            "Don't do that," he pleaded. "Don't blame yourself."

            She couldn't look at him, her face bright with anxiety.  "Oh, God what have I done?" she breathed.

            "No," he insisted, reaching out to take her hands.  She instantly recoiled and stared back at him in horror.  Denied contact with her, he stared into her eyes, desperate to convince her that she hadn't done anything wrong.  "It is I who needs to be forgiven.  I had no right to do that.  Do not blame yourself, Maria."

            She shook her head, tears in her eyes.

            Going against all his instincts, he stepped away from her.  "Forgive me," he whispered again, his eyes not leaving hers.  Turning around, he practically ran away from her, frantic to escape the feelings they had just shared.  Wishing he had never seen her again, he all but flew down the steps, taking him away from what he had just experienced in the Abbey graveyard.

            As he entered his chambers and stared at the bed, he tried to calm his nerves, but the only thing that came to his mind was the wrenchingly glorious sensation of Maria in his arms and how he had felt when he had finally touched her as he had longed to touch her.  Her skin was silk; her breath was sweet, and her body was soft. Even if he wanted to, he didn't think he could ever banish the feelings he had when he was with her. She was like a drug, and he was hopelessly captivated by her.  His fingers shook as he tried to mentally remove the waves of passion streaming through his body.

            She wasn't his to have.  It wasn't meant to be.  No matter how right it felt, how complete and clear everything was the moment he had taken her into his arms and kissed her, he had no right to her.  She belonged to God, and Georg was wrong in confusing and scaring her the way that he had.

Who did he think he was?  He was putting his own savage desires above the needs of his children, himself, and of Maria.  It wasn't his place to ask anything of her.  She had made her choice the night of the ball; he had to respect it, no matter what his heart told him.

But he couldn't deny his feelings for her.  When she left her unfinished confession hang in the air, it had hit him.  He loved her, and she loved him.  Georg was overcome with a bittersweet sensation in his stomach.  Just as he had found what he had been unconsciously searching for since Agathe's death, he learned that it wasn't meant to be.  Maria's departure prevented them from continuing whatever path they might have taken.

He should have been angry with her for making the decision without his knowing, but he knew that she had been frightened.  She hadn't expected to fall in love with him, nor did he with her.  No wonder she had been scared; she felt she had betrayed her reason for going to the villa.  Also, Georg wasn't aware of his own feelings until just a few moments ago.  No, he couldn't blame her for leaving.

But knowing that didn't help ease the ache in his stomach.

He glanced around the tiny sleeping quarters, trying desperately to erase the images flashing in his mind's eye and to quench the strong feelings running through him.

Georg sighed and cast a tired, weary glance up to the ceiling.  Sitting upon the bed, he knew that he would not be able to sleep that night.  He wasn't sure if he could handle what had just happened, what had just slipped through his fingers.  Losing Austria was hard enough, but at least he had his children with him, and they were going to be safely out of the country in a matter of hours.  

But he didn't think he could endure this.  After just realizing that all he ever needed had been right there, in front of him for weeks, it was gone.  It tore at his heart knowing that she felt the same way, but it just was not meant to be.  The cloth on her head proved that.

Bitterness filled him, and he stretched across the bed.  Part of him wanted to know why God had thrown Maria back into their lives.  Why the storm had formed so suddenly, just as they were passing the Abbey; how Maria had simply appeared, calming his children and tormenting him with a vision of what never could be.  He shut his eyes tightly and debated if it was wise to curse God in a convent. 

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

            Sister Berthe walked into the small chapel next to the Abbey graveyard, making sure the wind hadn't blown any candles over.  As she scanned the darkened room, the sound of muted sobbing caught her attention.  She squinted her eyes, peering into the darkness to find a lone figure collapsed in front of the altar.

            Berthe knew instantly who it was; she would have recognized that voice anywhere, but she had never heard it like that.  Maria's posture was slumped, and her cries sounded broken, like she had been defeated.  The postulant had always been so alive and full of energy that it unnerved Berthe to see her so quiet and hurt.

            Berthe hesitated before walking over to her. She and Maria had never gotten along; they had different opinions on practically everything.  But Berthe felt compelled to help in any way she could; the girl obviously needed someone to help her through her inner turmoil.  In addition, perhaps the two of them could finally reach some level of understanding.

            "Maria?" she asked quietly, not thinking about whether or not she should have disturbed her.  There was no response, and Berthe walked over to a candle by the door.  Lighting it, she watched as Maria straightened her posture but did not turn around.

            "Maria?" Berthe said again and walked over to her.  The postulant's eyes were red and puffy.  Her nose was raw and her cheeks were smeared with moisture.  Berthe set the candle down on the floor and stooped over to get Maria to stand up.  The other offered no resistance as Berthe guided her over to a pew to sit.

            "This is more comfortable for my old bones," Berthe said and smiled.  Maria didn't return the expression; she looked up at the altar, which was covered in shadows as the candle flickered.  A low rumble of the passing storm sounded, and Maria shivered.

            "Shall I get you some water, child?" Berthe offered, studying her.

            Maria shook her head, unable to voice anything.

            Berthe smiled.  "Quite a pair of storms," she offered.  When Maria didn't respond, she sighed. "I'm sorry the presence of our unexpected guests has disturbed you."

            Maria turned to look at her unlikely consoler.

            "Are you unhappy that you saw them again?"

            "No," Maria finally said, her voice not entirely convincing. "I liked seeing the children again."

            Berthe smiled. "They are a charming bunch," she said. "And a handful.  You must have been very busy those few weeks."

            Maria's felt a genuine smile come to her face. "It didn't seem like it," she said. "It was a joyful experience.  They're wonderful children."

            Berthe noticed the light in Maria's eyes.  "I must say," she started, "that I've never seen you in your element."

            Maria stared at her in confusion.  Berthe laughed softly. "Those children were scared to death when they first arrived.  It wasn't until they saw you that they truly seemed to be calmer.  Even with their father with them, they were happier when they saw you."

            Maria inhaled, flattered.

            "And you," Berthe continued. "I have to tell you that you've never looked more content than when you had those little ones in your arms."

            The small smile remained on Maria's face as she thought about being with the family again and how at peace she felt when she saw them.

            "Captain von Trapp is a very strong man," Berthe continued, watching Maria's reaction closely.  "I don't know if it's wise of him to take seven children across the borders by himself like that."

            Maria shook her head. "He is a proud, brave, and good man," she stated, and Berthe smiled at the vehemence of the declaration. "He can't stay, not with the Nazis here."

            Sister Berthe nodded. "Are you glad you saw him again, too?"

            The other opened her mouth to reply, but her throat tightened quickly and she swallowed, looking away to the safety of the altar.

            The older nun smiled in affirmation but decided not to directly press the issue.  "Would you like to hear a confession?"

            Maria's head turned quickly at the offer.  "Confession?" she repeated.

            "Yes," Berthe said. "Do you know what the hardest part of the Lord's Prayer is for me to say?"

            Maria shook her head, intrigued.

            " 'Thy will be done,'" Berthe answered.  "It always makes me stop and think.  As the Mistress of Novices, I recite that to myself a lot.  Is each girl that comes to us really called to be a daughter of Christ, or is she meant to be elsewhere?"

            Maria opened her mouth, but no words come out.

            "It's also something that I struggle with for myself," Berthe confessed. "Whether it's a simple choice or a life-altering decision, I have to remind myself that it's not what I want, but what God wants."

            She smiled at Maria. "The trick is to know what God wants."

            Maria looked confused. "I always thought God wanted whatever we wanted."

            Berthe shook her head. "He does," she said. "But sometimes we don't know what we truly want."

            Maria's eyes brightened with tears again, and she looked up at the altar.

Berthe sighed.  "What is it, Maria?"

            The girl wiped her eyes. "I'm so confused," she confessed. "I thought I belonged here, with you."

            "Why?"

            Maria stared at Berthe. "I've never had a home before I came here," she said. "This is my family, my life."

            "Maria," the other said, taking her hands, "tell me something."

            "Yes?" Maria's voice was barely above a whisper.

            "When you saw Captain von Trapp again, how did you feel?"

            Maria shook her head. "Scared."

            "Of what?"

            "Disobeying God's will."

            Berthe nodded. "I see."

            The two remained quiet for a moment.  Maria exhaled and cast a teary glance up to the altar.  She absently touched her lips.

            "I sinned, Sister," she confessed, snapping her hand down from her mouth.

            Berthe turned to stare at her, surprised. "Sinned?"

            Maria nodded.  "I wish he hadn't come here," she said, her voice catching. "I wish I had never seen him again."

            "What happened?"

            Maria cocked her head back to the graveyard. "We talked, the Captain and I," she started. "It all happened so quickly, but I never felt that way before.  I felt as if I couldn't breathe.  And he was just standing there, staring at me as if he could read my every thought."

            "Did he hurt you?"

            "No!" Maria exclaimed, the tears falling from her eyes. "Never!  He would never... But I shouldn't have let it go so far.  I should have walked away, but I couldn't help myself!  I don't know what happens to me when I'm with him.  I'm so confused!"

            Berthe thought for a moment. "What else?"

            Maria blinked. "I'm sorry?"

            "You were scared, but what else?"

            "Sister, I was wrong," Maria said, feeling her cheeks start to burn. "I'm so ashamed."

            "No, before you realized whatever you were doing was supposedly wrong," Berthe insisted. "What else did you feel?"

            Maria paused, remembering. She turned to look back at the spot where she and the Captain had stood. It was barely visible from her spot, but she could still see the corner window, and acute emotions flooded over her.

            "Alive," she murmured.

            Sister Berthe nodded in conclusion as she studied the expression on Maria's face. "Do you really think that you and God agree on what his plan is for you, Maria?"

            Maria turned her head, her mouth dropping as she looked at the older nun.

"I know that you and I have never really seen eye to eye on many things, Maria," Berthe said.  "And you know how I feel about your future here."

            Maria narrowed her eyes, and Berthe smiled before the familiar argument resurfaced. "But for the entire time you've been with us, I have never seen the look on your face that I saw just now."

            "Sister," Maria started, thinking of what Berthe had said. "What should I do?"

            "Stop crying and pray about it," the other answered with authority. "The answer will come to you, my child.  Above all, Maria, I want you to be happy.  I want you to be where you belong.  Whether it's with us or elsewhere is for God to know and you to figure out."

            She took Maria's hands in hers and squeezed them in encouragement. "Remember," she said and rose to leave the girl alone to think and pray over what they had talked about. "'Thy will be done.'"

            Sister Berthe slowly turned and exited the chapel and said her own silent prayer for the peace of mind that Maria so desperately needed.

***

            Maria wasn't sure how many more twists of fate she could handle.  First the von Trapp family had reappeared in her life, and then she found herself powerless as she stood in front of the Captain, completely under his spell. And now, she had actually bonded with Sister Berthe.  If Maria hadn't been so desperately lost and upset, she would have laughed aloud at the irony.

            She gave a wry smile to the altar.  "I wonder if you're through amusing yourself," she commented.  She turned her head back to the corner window, almost seeing two figures standing there, indulging in a forbidden passion for just a moment.

            Maria sighed deeply.  While she was grateful for Sister Berthe's confidence and wise words, she still had no idea as to what to do.  Ever since she had returned to the Abbey, everyone had avoided speaking with her as to her reasons for her premature arrival.  Even Mother Superior hadn't asked to speak with her; Maria suspected the Reverend Mother was waiting for her to come to her when she was ready.

            The trouble was that Maria didn't know what she wanted any more.  The feelings she had when she was with the Captain were undeniable.  She loved him, and she hadn't stopped.  But she wasn't sure what she meant to him.

            The Baroness had said that he was in love with her, but that he would "get over it."  Maria had believed her; what did she, Maria, know about such things?

            But his actions and words towards her told her differently.  Her breath caught in her throat at just the memory of the passionate look on his face as he stared at her and pleaded with her to go with him.  Her heart pounded as she heard his voice in her head, how rough with emotion it was.  She had never heard him like that, like a man begging for his life.  And it was all because of her.

            Was it possible that he really _did love her?_

            Maria shook her head.  Even if he did, there was nothing they could do about it now.  The family was leaving the next morning, and she would remain in Austria.

            Alone.

            She shivered at the thought, but tried to push the fear from her mind.  It wouldn't be appropriate for her to go with them.  She would be an unmarried woman traveling with a family, headed by an unmarried man.  The impropriety of it almost made her give a bitter laugh.

Her home was there, in the Abbey.  She was only meant to be the governess of the von Trapp children for a few months.  She had to drive the feeling of belonging, of being part of a real family for the first time in her life, out of her heart.  It just wasn't meant to be.

            That was what she tried to keep telling herself, but she found herself continuously being pulled to thoughts of them, of him.  She smiled as various images from their time together earlier that summer flashed before her mind's eye, each vision happier than the previous.

            It was useless, she decided.  All her life, she knew where she was meant to be, but now was completely at a loss.  Casting another glance up at the altar, she sighed in defeat.

            "I can't do this without you," she prayed aloud. "Please help me."

To be concluded…


	5. Chapter 5 end

            The sky was slowly turning into a sharp blue as the sun rose from behind the Alps.  The storms of the previous night had moved on, leaving crisp, cool air.

            As the bells rang for morning prayers, Georg stood by the window of his small bedroom.  It was time he wake the children and prepare them for their departure.  They had lost a considerable amount of time due to the storms.  Gritting his teeth, he prayed that the Nazis hadn't figured out that they had abandoned the villa yet, and that he and his children could still leave the city undetected.     

A chorus of female voices sang in the distance as the nuns made their way to Mass.  Georg frowned, wondering if Maria was with them.  Somehow the image of her quietly walking with everyone else, simply another face in a crowd, didn't seem right to him.  She was born to stick out.

            Georg shook his head.  He mustn't think of Maria anymore; she wasn't meant to be part of his life.  As predicted, he hadn't gotten any sleep that night.  Each time he came remotely close to sleep, the image of Maria's eyes, bright with love and life, came to his mind's eye, and he was instantly alert.  

As much as he tried, he couldn't convince himself that this was truly the end.  The thought that he would never see her again seemed incomprehensible to him.  Yet, it was true; he and the children would be leaving, and Maria would stay.  He wasn't even sure if they would see her at all this morning.  

He found the thought of not even seeing her one last time unbearable.  For no other reason, he wanted to apologize for his actions towards her the night before.  He must have terrified her; he was scared himself.

            Why couldn't this be easy, like it had been with Agathe? Georg shook his head again.  While his mind knew that a future with Maria was not possible, he wasn't sure if he could ever get his heart to agree.

            There was a soft knock on the door.

            "Father?" Liesl's voice asked on the other side.  "Are you awake?"

            Georg walked over to the door and opened it to see his three oldest children standing on the other side, all wearing identical masks of bravery.  He could see, however, the fear in their eyes.

            "Breakfast is ready," Friedrich told him.

            "Are the others awake?" the Captain asked.

            Liesl nodded. "They're in the dining room."

            Louisa squinted her eyes as she looked at her father. "You're tired," she said.

            He met her gaze. "I'll be fine," he told her.

            She studied him a moment longer. "We're leaving forever, aren't we?"

            He reached out and took her hands. "Yes, Louisa, forever," he said and offered a smile. "But we're together, and that's all that matters to me."

            She looked like she wanted to say more, but chose not to.  Instead, she nodded and the three children led their father to the dining room.

            "Father!" Gretl called as she saw them. "Will Fräulein Maria come?"

            "Gretl," Liesl said. "Eat your breakfast and don't pester Father."

            "But she _has_ to come!" the girl insisted, her chin trembling.

            "She might come to say good-bye," Brigitta offered, looking sad.

            "She has to come _with_ us!" Gretl said.

            "That's enough, Gretl," Liesl said, more gently this time as she walked over to her sister and knelt besides her. "You know that she's staying here.  We talked about this earlier, remember?"

            The child frowned but nodded.  She picked up her spoon and pushed her breakfast around her plate.

            "That might be the last meal you eat for some time, Gretl," Brigitta warned as she picked up a glass of milk.

            "Yes," Louisa said, smirking. "You better eat it before Kurt gets to it."

            Gretl's face paled, and she shoved a spoonful into her mouth.

            Georg smiled at the repartee between his children and felt grateful that they could handle each other.  Their attitude would help lesson the burden of their journey.  He looked out the window. 

            "When do you want to leave, Father?" Friedrich asked.

            Still gazing out the window, Georg was surprised at the first answer that had popped into his head: they weren't leaving until the family was complete.  He looked down at the floor, desperate to push such pointless desires out of his system.  If his children could do it, than so must he.

            He looked over at his son. "In thirty minutes," he said. "So eat what you can without taking advantage of the sisters' generosity."

            "It's no trouble, Captain," a voice said behind him.  He turned to see Sister Margaretta walking in with another bottle of milk.  "I trust you slept well, Captain."

            Georg caught Louisa watching him.  "You're very kind to offer us so much, Madame," he said.

            The woman nodded and smiled at him. "Please eat," she said. "You have a long journey ahead of you."

            "Will Fräulein Maria come see us?" Gretl asked.

            "Gretl!" Kurt snapped, but the girl kept her fixed stare on Sister Magaretta.

            "I'm sure she will come to say good-bye, dear," Margaretta answered before retreating into the kitchen.

            Georg was still marveling at the thought that had entered his head just a few moments before.  His family wasn't complete; he had known that for years.  There was only one person who could complete it.  Despite his earlier resolve to try to push such thoughts from his mind, he felt himself becoming energized by his sudden idea.  

But he had to know.  He had to truly believe that she was willing to put what had happened between them in the graveyard behind her, and that she could live without the feelings generated when they were together.  He had to hear from her lips that she didn't want to go with them, with him.

            He prayed that Gretl's wish to see Maria would be answered.

***

            The altar of the small chapel was the first thing Maria saw as she rubbed the soreness from her neck.  She sat up and was startled at her surroundings. She looked around, finding herself alone in the small chapel.  Sunlight poured into the room, creating an entirely different mood from the night before.  There were no shadows cast by lone candles, and the vivid colors of the Resurrection-themed triptych on the altar seemed to brighten her mood. The thickness of the humidity was replaced by fresh air, and she inhaled deeply.

            Somehow, Maria felt rejuvenated with the change in climate, as if she was given a clean slate from which to start.  The sun was bright, the birds were singing, and the bells were echoing in the hills.

            Images from the night before flew to her head, and she absently touched her lips.  Forgetting to feel ashamed at what she had done, she mentally relived the feeling of having the Captain's arms around her.  She closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel his skin beneath her fingers again, and relished in how alive and excited she had felt as his mouth had covered hers, creating a sensation she had never experienced before.  She had felt safe, happy, and totally at peace.

Maria's mouth dropped open, startled by the intense emotion that merely the memory of their embrace stirred within her.  While it was just a dim reflection of the real passion they had shared, she wasn't prepared for how strongly it had affected her.  Could she really live the rest of her life without ever feeling that way again?  Was she prepared to have that experience become dimmer and dimmer as the years went on without him?  

She touched her lips again, closing her eyes for a moment and tried to stop thinking about what had happened between them. However, she couldn't get the moment out of her head. When he had pushed her away and asked for her forgiveness, Maria wasn't sure which was more painful: the expression on his face or the fact that he had walked away from her.  What was plaguing her was the decision of whether or not she had the right to consider accepting his offer.

He wanted her to go with him, but as what?  Governess to his children?  His mistress?  She knew it was highly inappropriate for her to go with them; she knew that deep down, he knew it too.  And yet, there was little doubt in her mind that he wanted her to be a part of his life, to make that social sacrifice, if only for a little while.  He had seemed so adamant.  

Despite her confusion, a smile formed on her face.  Some of her doubts from the night before vanished as she reflected on what he hadn't said: he really did love her.  The realization brought her a sense of peace.  His actions the night before were out of sudden passion and desperation, on both their parts. She knew he would never again ask anything of her that she wasn't prepared to give him; he would be patient with her.    

However, Maria couldn't remove the fact that it was too late.  No matter how alive she had felt when she was with him, her sense of propriety told her that there was nothing she could do about it.  The family was leaving that morning, and she was going to stay.

            _Thy will be done…_

            The words echoed in her head and she looked up at the altar again, her breath catching.  She wanted more than anything for God to tell her straight forward what to do, because she had no idea for herself.  The reason she had been sent to the villa was to bring the family closer together, and she had done that.  She was not supposed to fall in love with her employer, nor he with her; that was not the will of God, she told herself.  She exhaled in frustration, wishing desperately for an answer.

            All her life, she had been so focused on joining the novitiate; to become, as Sister Berthe had called it, a daughter of Christ.  The moment she had peeked over the wall and watched the sisters sing on their way to vespers, she had felt such a pull to the peaceful, pious life that she knew she could never experience with her own family.  Even at that moment, as she heard the melodious sound of the Sisters making their way to lauds, she felt rested and relaxed at the simple life one could lead as a nun.  

Her life had been a nightmare growing up, and it was only in the Abbey that she had truly experienced feeling accepted and loved, even if she didn't always follow their rules. A nun would never be scolded if she failed to clean the barnyard properly, nor would she be punished if she spoke out of turn. A nun was surrounded by the love of God, and God didn't exist on her uncle's farm.  Maria had been blessed to stumble upon Nonnberg Abbey that fateful day, and she cherished the opportunity she had to become a part of their world.  

It was the only world she had known acceptance, until they had sent her away to be governess to seven unruly children.  A smile formed on her face as she thought about the family she had been sent to care for, and how much joy they had brought to her.  Despite the shaky start to their tenure, she knew that she would always cherish their time together.

Maria continued to listen to the Sisters, and she vaguely realized that she should be with them.  Suddenly, the thought of joining her fellow nuns and postulants felt like the last thing she wanted to do.

She felt as if she were in limbo, belonging to neither world.  Part of her longed to recapture the excitement created when the Captain was with her, while the other told her that she belonged with the women on their way to worship. She was never meant to be a permanent part of the Von Trapps' lives.  Sighing, she absently smoothed her dress, trying to calm herself.  A clock chimed in the distance.

Maria froze.  She was never going to see them again.  In a matter of hours, maybe just minutes, they would drift away from her life, only to exist in her memory.  The thought made her stomach drop.  She had to see them again, at least say good-bye.

Maria jumped out of the pew. Running down the steps, she dashed off in the opposite direction as all the other nuns.  The bell continued to chime, telling her the earliness of the hour.  They couldn't have left yet; the children needed to eat.  They had such a long, difficult journey ahead of them.

            She ran into the dining room, only to find Sister Augusta clearing the table.

            "Where are the von Trapps?" she asked, breathless.

            The other looked up at her.  "They left here a few minutes ago, Maria," she answered.

            "No!" Maria exclaimed, running out the door.  They couldn't have left.  Not without saying good-bye.

            She ran to the open courtyard, unnerved at how empty it was.  Passing the water pump, her loud, frantic pacing echoing in the air, she ran faster towards the front gate.  

            Maria stopped suddenly as she saw the children huddled together next to the front door.  Their heads turned simultaneously as they heard her rather ungraceful arrival.

            "Fräulein Maria!" Gretl and Marta shouted, running over to her.  Just as they had the night before, the girls collided with Maria. But this time, she was better prepared, and she knelt down, hugging them to her.

            "We were afraid we wouldn't get a chance to say good-bye," Marta said, hugging her tighter.

            "I couldn't let that happen," Maria said, her eyes watering.  She looked up as the other children surrounded her.  She stood and hugged all of the children in turn.  "I wish this wasn't happening.  But you're all so brave."

            "We'll be alright," Friedrich told her, and she noted the maturity in the boy's face.

            She nodded. "Yes, I believe you will be," she told him.

            They heard footsteps approach them and turned to see the Captain walking towards them.  He stopped when he saw Maria standing there in the midst of his children.

            "I, uh," she stammered. "I wanted to see you all again before you left.  To wish you luck and to offer my prayers."

            He nodded, feeling a hesitant smile form on his face.  Seeing her surrounded by his children only strengthened his resolve.

            He walked closer to them, his eyes not leaving hers.  "I'm glad you came, Fräulein," he said, glancing over at the children.

            Noting the look in her father's eye, Liesl gestured to her siblings.  "Let's let them say good-bye," she said, and they walked over to the gate, allowing the couple a moment of privacy.

            "I do apologize for my actions last night, Maria," Georg started slowly.

            She shook her head. "Please don't apologize," she said.

            "The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you," he continued.

            She smiled. "But you didn't.  Not at all."

            He looked over at his children, who were all staring at them with anticipation.  Returning his gaze to Maria, he resisted the urge to take her hands in his.

            "Captain, I—" she started, but felt her voice leave her as she caught the expression on his face.  They stared at each other for a moment, wasting precious time and yet unable to let the moment go.

            "I cannot accept that this is the end," he said finally. "I tried to convince myself that it was, but I can't get you out of my head.  Or out of my heart.  And I don't ever want to. You're too important to this family, to me.  You taught me how to be a father again, and because of you, I've finally felt..."

            She stared at him, his words swimming through her mind.

            He forgot to fight his impulses and reached out to take her hands in his. His eyes bore into hers.  "Would you come, Maria, as their mother? As my wife?"

            Maria felt her mouth drop open as she internally repeated his request.  He wanted her to be with him forever. He didn't just want to fulfill some desire; he was asking her to be much more than the hired help or worse, his paramour.  As she closed her gaping mouth and searched his eyes, she became aware of how much thought he had put into this.  While the impropriety would turn some heads, she realized that he only wanted her to be with him, no matter what anyone else might say.

            She looked over at the children, who hadn't heard their father's question but were watching them with captivated interest. She knew that they wanted her to go with them, but had resisted asking because they knew it was not their place.  It wasn't _his place either, but he was asking anyway, because he loved her._

            She swallowed and closed her eyes, trying to capture some level of concentration as she considered his request.  Torn between the feeling of the peace she had when she was with the family and the pull of her sense of duty, she prayed harder than she ever had for an answer.  The words of Sister Berthe kept repeating in her head, and she inhaled quickly to try to hear exactly what God's will was.  Was she meant to devote her life to Him or was she destined to be with the von Trapp family?

            Maria knew that she had to make her choice immediately, and there would be no second guessing.  If she decided to go with them, she would be putting her reputation, and his, at risk. She would be walking away from a life that she had grown up thinking she was meant to live, something she had never considered doing until the night before.  But could she deny herself from ever experiencing another moment like she had in the Abbey cemetery?  Could she deny _him that?_

            She heard the children murmur to themselves, and the Captain's patient sigh as they all waited for her to tell them what she wanted to do.

            As she continued her internal debate, she vaguely realized that the chimes had stopped ringing, and the Sisters' singing had ended.  Nothing filled her head except for a calm silence, and she found that the stillness gave her a sudden feeling of lucidity.

            Maria opened her eyes and met his gaze again.  She inhaled deeply, letting that serene awareness wash over her body, and she gradually felt a calmness fall upon her.

Without warning, she became acutely aware that she had already made her choice.  As the resolution filled her, she was surprised that the decision had caused her so much anxiety to make in the first place.  Once the thought entered her head, she felt such clarity, such peace.  She knew, deep in her heart, which path she was meant to follow.

"Will you, Maria?" he asked again. "Will you come with us?"

            Maria smiled at him and opened her mouth to give her answer.

Fin.


End file.
